


Interlude: Tooth-Ache

by useless_lesbean



Series: The Times Jaina Accidentally Got Her Gf High [3]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Crack, accidental substance use is mentioned, but NOT the fun kind, its the morning after, jaina wants to help, my two favorite things lmao, sylvanas just wants the world to please go away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 14:32:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19111636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/useless_lesbean/pseuds/useless_lesbean
Summary: It's the morning after the ill-fated escapade with the infused wine. Sylvanas is not happy.





	Interlude: Tooth-Ache

**Author's Note:**

> for everyone who wanted a morning after, here you go! :'D

There were teeth grinding down into her skull.

Or was it a sword stabbing into her brain?

Maybe the sword was made of rows of teeth, and each tooth on the tooth-sword held a sword made of yet more teeth and so on until there were endless teeth holding endless teeth-swords all stabbing into her skull.

That seemed about right.

Sylvanas pressed her face into the pillow, miserable. She didn’t know what noise escaped her, but it must have been extremely pathetic- as it should, because she _felt_ extremely pathetic- for there was a sympathetic coo above her. Then a hand, radiating coolness, was pressed to the back of her head. Trying to fight off the army of sword-wielding teeth. 

Even the blessed chill did next to nothing, besides making her cold. If Belore had any mercy, she would be struck down to escape this torment. She couldn’t even remember what caused this agony.

It was almost like a hangover, but without the usual overwhelming sensitivity to sound.

“Are you alright, my love?”

Aaannnnddd she spoke too soon.

It was Jaina’s voice- the voice that usually sounded so musical to her ears. The sweet voice that made her heart thump in her chest and warmth glow throughout her whole body. The voice so often passionately rambling about magic. The voice of her love, that she loved to listen to. 

Right now it sounded far too loud, and grating, and it must have also been wielding a tooth-sword because Sylvanas could have sworn it stabbed directly into her ear- waving hello to the teeth stabbing her head, asking after the baby teeth at home, setting a playdate, and trading tips about how to correctly twist the teeth-swords to increase damage and make a doily out of her brain matter.

She may actually vomit.

She hadn’t vomited since she was a recruit. Since that time Clea had pilfered some of her parents strongest alcohol and shared it with their training group. 

Their training captain had not been amused at the troop of sick, hungover recruits. The Ranger-General even less so. Sylvanas had been made to run laps around the training ground, carrying a heavy pack, for _months_ after that little escapade.

“Sylvanas?”

Sylvanas winced, and made another pathetic little noise. She weakly raised a hand, flopping around until she hit some part of Jaina. “Shhhhh. D’nt talk,”

 _Belore,_ even her own voice was holding a sword of teeth. Kill her now.

“What can I do?” Jaina lowered her voice to a gentle whisper, not that it did anything more than turn the swords to daggers. Unerringly digging into her brain.

She was definitely going to vomit.

“‘mma throw up.”

“Oh no you are _not!_ ”

The reprimand drilled directly through her skull and Sylvanas could feel the nausea rising up strong.

“ _‘mma throw up._ ”

The chilly hands moved to her temples, massaging gently. “Don’t you dare throw up.” Jaina whispered warningly.

“F’ck.” Sylvanas gasped, her whole body lurching in solidarity with her protesting belly.

Then she was yanked up, a wooden bucket shoved in her arms, and Jaina’s cool hands still pressing into her head and neck.

Still, the mage was chanting ‘do not, do _not_ ’.

For her, Sylvanas would resist. She clenched her eyes shut as her head reeled and her stomach heaved. But she didn't throw up.

Yet.

“Wh’ happ’n t’ me?” 

“You don’t remember?” Jaina massaged her neck gently, sympathetically. “We had that wine.”

Sylvanas murmured wordlessly in weak confusion. The wine? It had been delicious, and she had drunk a few goblets full perhaps quicker than she should but it certainly hadn’t been enough to do _this_ to her.

“It was infused with catmint and sungrass.”

Oh _Belore_. 

“You got… _really_ high.” Jaina said cautiously, still keeping her voice low. “ _Extremely_ high. You were upset about the table not being a tree or something…”

Now she remembered. Hazily, yes, but she remembered. Upending everything on the table, thinking gravity had claimed her, and she was pretty sure she had groped Jaina in front of her parents... Her face and ears were burning.

“ _Fuck_.”

“I thought it was sweet how you were going to sacrifice yourself to give me gravity,” Jaina offered, now rubbing her temples. “Even though trying to get your boots off was a hassle.”

“What?”

“You kept saying I was taking your feet.”

Right. She dimly remembered crying and whining over her boots being taken away, and somehow that had translated to feet in her drugged mind. _Somehow._

Sylvanas hugged her bucket tighter, miserable and embarrassed. At this point she would welcome the stabbing teeth-swords to just go ahead and slit her throat. Her ears pressed to her skull, and that seemed to just encourage them. 

Her stomach rolled again. Clutching her bucket seemed to keep the vomit down. It may just be her new best friend. She would take it with her everywhere. It would be her new trusted second. Lor’themar had never stopped her from vomiting, after all. Sure, Lor’themar could use a sword, but Sylvanas could use her bucket for a blunt weapon. And besides- the bucket had already seen her at her worst, and heard the story of last night and didn’t judge. Unlike Lor’themar. 

Who would tell Vereesa about this, if he ever found out. Who would then tell everyone.

Dying was really seeming to be the better option here.

“Don’t be embarrassed about this.” Jaina soothed her, picking up on her embarrassed despair. Or tried to soothe. Her voice was still adding to the army of sword holding teeth warriors assaulting her head. “It wasn’t your fault. If anything, we should apologize for drugging you. I should have thought to question what was in the wine before we drank it. Or warned my parents beforehand.”

Sylvanas could just whimper at her. “Are your parents going to kill me for groping you?”

“They didn’t see.”

Small mercies. Katherine could probably pack a mean punch.

“Just relax, sweetheart.” Jaina murmured. “Try to go to sleep.”

Sylvanas cuddled closer to her bucket, burying her face into the pillow and trying to follow her advice. Trying to just let the chill of her ice magic soothe her. 

But approaching voices were trickling in from afar, her hearing picking it up, and the swords assaulting her skull rejoiced for more reinforcements on the way.

“-lin Proudmoore you will do no such thing!”

“Just going to check on them!”

“Jaina _explicitly_ said-!”

“She’s in my daughter’s bed I’m allowed to-”

“What bloody prudish mainlander _nonsense_ have you picked up?!”

The arguing humans were getting closer. Sylvanas weakly gasped out a warning, taking one hand away from her bucket to paw at Jaina. “Parents- yelling-”

Apparently they were now close enough for Jaina to hear them too, for she slipped from the bed in a hurry, her blessedly cool hands leaving Sylvanas’s skin and making her whine. She had meant to just lock the door and maybe throw out some sort of muffling spell. And more importantly stay with her so she didn’t wallow in her misery alone. Jaina had other ideas, it seemed.

Her girlfriend darted out, the door closing loudly behind her- she was sure Jaina didn’t _slam_ it but it sure sounded like it to her. 

The loud voices abruptly quieted, and Sylvanas could have cried in relief. She put a muffling spell down. Oh, her sweet, wonderful, lovely, thoughtful-

“-my bloody life!”

 _Anar’alah belore._

There were three humans bellowing outside the door now, and they could put dragon roars to shame with just how loud they were.

Jaina’s spell must be tailored to humans. Either that or the Proudmoores’ vocal chords were too powerful for a measly spell to contain. Sylvanas knew how loud Jaina alone could be, so it wouldn’t surprise her honestly. 

“-your honor in question-”

“-never cared when Derek or Tandred- hell even me with Arthas-”

“Don’t you bring that nonsense in my house Daelin-”

Sylvanas whimpered, keeping one hand on her bucket and using the other to life the pillow over her head. The sword wielding teeth had howled and surged back into the melee, battering at her skull and driving their infinite swords made of infinite teeth into her brain with renewed vigor. They sensed victory at hand.

“I’m just gonna talk to her.”

“Put the sword down _now._ ”

“I’m just gonna talk to her!”

“She's sick, it’s going to have to wai- hey! Don’t-!”  
“Daelin Proudmoore!”

The door flew open with a bang, canceling out the spell, and the full vocal force of three Proudmoores hit her poor, sensitive ears.

Yup. The teeth won. She was definitely going to vomit. She and her bucket were about to grow much closer.

“Wakey, wakey lassie! We n- oh Tides, she’s throwing up.”

Sylvanas groaned in misery, heaving against her bucket, Jaina’s cry of dismay grating on her brain. 

Belore, she thought feverishly before her stomach rebelled again and she was forced to lean further over the bucket, had no mercy for her.

**Author's Note:**

> did you see what i did there with the title
> 
>  
> 
> ...i'll show myself out


End file.
